


Sintamo

by Varaen



Series: Fills for LLA 2016 [10]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Elves, GFY, Gen, Rivendell | Imladris, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 08:18:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6697093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Varaen/pseuds/Varaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the forges of Imladris, her word was law.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sintamo

**Author's Note:**

> For the 23.04. prompt: The Common People  
> Sintamo is Quenya for smith.

She had gravitated towards the forges from the beginning. She had been sent away more often than she could count, but Glaurchen was nothing if not persistent. And while the blacksmiths forged great weapons and armor for the war against Sauron, they had less and less time to send her away again, insisting that a maiden had no business there. She had ensconced herself in a corner and set to finish all those parts that had been deemed less important. Slowly, the backlog of damaged ironwares and suspended orders dwindled, and the other smiths learned to appreciate her for more than the pretty jewelry she could create.

By the time the army left Imladris and took the weaponsmiths and their apprentices with it, along with nine tenths of the valley’s male population, she knew the forges better than the back of her own hand. It was well that she did, because the necessity for pristine pots and shovels remained, just as the few patrols that stayed for the valley’s protection still needed their weapons and armor maintained. She learned more about ferrous metallurgy than she had ever expected to need, and when the diminished army returned, with considerably fewer smiths than had set out, none contested her position as master smith of Imladris. Neither dared they to find fault with her journeywomen and female apprentices.

The Third Age passed like a blur. With more smiths in residence, she could delegate the boring chores of maintenance to her subordinates and concentrate on the grandeur of creation that was her greatest joy. Delicate diadems and elegant bracelets flowed from her hands, interspersed with gleaming swords and clever tools.

As more and more, especially older elves decided to sail west, she soon became the most experienced and capable smith in the valley, in addition to being the most settled in. Glaurchen felt the sea-longing, too, but she was tethered to Middle-Earth by a greater purpose she sensed awaiting her.

That purpose was revealed to her when a diverse lot gathered in Imladris, arriving for varying reasons but united by a common purpose. It was then that she saw Narsil again, a sword that she had only catched glimpses of, almost an entire Age past. They finally brought the shards to her, to reforge the broken symbol of Men’s triumph into a symbol of the anticipated dominion of Men. Andúril was one of her greatest accomplishments, but also the source of her greatest sorrow.

Her time in Middle-Earth was over. She would finally sail and see Valinor, and maybe even meet the father she had never met, and to whom she owed her remarkable eye-colour for which she was named.

**Author's Note:**

> Glaurchen, at least according to my meagre Sindarin skills, means golden-eye.


End file.
